Along the well-worn winding path,
we made our way between the burnt sienna of early sumac,
their fuzzy heads brushing against our arms,
as we basked in the rich ambiance of fall.

The smell of autumn in the air, clean and warm,
shadows long and drawn out, in September’s Mannerist style,
painted dark on the ochres and greens of the landscape,
we played our way home from our long days of school.

Rich days of golden sun on my back, long and lazy;
cicadas buzzing, grasshoppers guiding us along our way.
Memories transport me to this simpler time and place;
when my heart was still young and filled with newness of life.